


The Voice Behind It All

by King_Krow



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: (in the future though), (very minor in the first chapter), Agatha has Daddy Issues, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Tedros, Canon Divergence, Daddy Issues, F/F, Filip has Mummy Issues, Gay Male Character, Iwouldsayslowburnbuthonestlystory-wisekidsherelovefallinginloveinthreedaysorless, Just saying upfront, M/M, Multi, Slow Build, Sophie has Daddy Issues, Tedros has Daddy Issues, Underage Drinking, i'm just hella peeved at Soman for making Sophie and Agatha sisters that I said no, kinda canon complaint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Krow/pseuds/King_Krow
Summary: And she believed the voice. It was something her mother would say. But Sophie knew it wasn’t her mother. The voice was too masculine, young but definitely belonged to a boy.This voice stuck with her, murmuring words of encouragement but also slightly scoldings whenever she did something wrong.She gave this voice a name.The same name her father gave to a dead baby boy who he loved more than Sophie. A name she recycled and claimed as her own guardian angel.Filip.
Relationships: Agatha/Sophie (The School for Good and Evil), Filip/Tedros (The School for Good and Evil)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Nagging Suspicion

It wasn’t long until Sophie realised there was something different than her. Something that set her apart from the girls in her village.

It wasn’t just that she was the most beautiful, fairest and kindest girl of them all, no, that one is easy to tell. I mean, anyone with eyes could see that. No, pass her beauty and her intelligence, there was something lurking beneath the surface.

She can’t remember when it started, she’s been used to it ever since she was a child. Her mother, when she was alive, told her a sad story.

A story of a boy with eyes vibrant like the ocean and hair resembling freshly picked corn. A boy who was her mother’s ticket into her father’s heart. A perfect pair of babies, to complete their wonderful family.

A boy who was so perfect that heaven had to take him back.

It was after the unnamed child’s death followed what Sophie theatrically called ‘A Chain Of Accursed Happenstance.’

Without the affection of a son, Sophie’s father found no happiness in his current family. But because of the laws of the town, he couldn’t escape it. Instead of being a decent husband and staying faithful, he decided to spend his nights with a hag known as Honora. When Sophie found out, she went to her beautiful mother, insisting that she didn’t have to deal with such injustice. But her mother, kind as ever did nothing.

To make things worse, Stefan found comfort in a new family. Not caring that the two boys weren’t his own, just that they were boys. Sophie knew. Her mother knew. Still, her mother, kind and lovely and heartbroken, did nothing.

Maybe it was because of that heartbreak that she died when Sophie was five, eternally beautiful but alone. While Sophie was upset by this, her father took thinly masked joy in such a circumstance.

In a fit of sadness, Sophie decided to run away.

Discarding her life of tragedy and hopelessness for one of adventure. She stole to the woods in hope of tall white towers bathed in rosy gold light. Filled with princesses who she was no doubt better than and princes lining up just for her.

Instead, she was shot out in a dingy, scary field filled with gravestones. A field of dark spindly trees without leaves and bushes of thorns without roses. Sophie ran through the fields of death, face white and sweat pouring through her features.

As if the world had thought Sophie didn’t have enough misfortune, she tumbled down a hill, dark dirt splattering on her dress and face. She didn’t have enough time to react as she fell face first into a gravestone. It was hard enough to stop her from falling but it also tipped over the stone. Now there was blood dripping from her head and everything was spinning. Sophie wept that day. Was this where her story ended as well? Alone and heartbroken. Below her mother who was eternally beautiful even at death, while she, a hideous ugly hag.

Then a voice made these thoughts go to a screeching halt.

_“It’s okay. You’ll be alright.”_

Sophie glanced up, whirling to and fro for the owner but found nothing.

_“You have to get up, get home before you get too hurt.”_

The voice was so comforting and kind that Sophie didn’t care where it came from. It was the nicest anyone’s ever spoken to her since her mother’s death.

With this voice’s guidance, Sophie made it home by dark. Her father was nowhere to be seen, on the way home Sophie saw Honora the hag’s house lights on with four silhouettes. A mother, her two children and another man.

But when Sophie buried her face into her pillow to cry the voice came back, soothing as ever.

_“Don’t let him get to you, Sophie. I promise, he’ll see what he’s missing soon.”_

And she believed the voice. It was something her mother would say. But Sophie knew it wasn’t her mother. The voice was too masculine, young but definitely belonged to a boy.

This voice stuck with her, murmuring words of encouragement but also slightly scoldings whenever she did something wrong.

She gave this voice a name.

The same name her father gave to a dead baby boy who he loved more than Sophie. A name she recycled and claimed as her own guardian angel.

**Filip.**

* * *

As Sophie grew up, the title of guardian angel sunk to little brother. Younger by a few seconds, Filip had emphasised once, but still younger, Sophie insisted.

Sophie thought that having a brother would be fun. He would surely not be like the brutes of the village, simply because Sophie would intend to graciously help him become the perfect fairytale prince. Well, maybe a second place, first was reserved for her soon to be beloved.

She would make sure his physique was on par with a prince, graciously coordinating his food intake and exercise regiment. She would make sure his hair was just as luscious and flowing like hers, and prime his face with a mask as well to keep his complexion perfect. And she'd make sure he'd be mannerly as well, can't have a brother who wouldn't treat a girl like a princess of course.

While Sophie would live in a castle along with her lovely prince, her prince of a brother would bring glory to their dreary village of Galvadon in her stead. They'd have weekly tea parties and double weddings, matching outfits, the whole sha-bang.

But that didn't work, simply because Filip was but a voice in her head. Yet it was the most comfort she's ever had in this town.

His feather-soft voice reminded Sophie of the refreshing chime of the bells, usually when he was simply murmuring to himself about the scenery, or cooing about something insignificant like beetles. But whenever he scolded Sophie, she related it to the clanging of a Chinese cymbal.

And despite being but a voice, Filip was very invasive.

* * *

_“Sophie!”_ The girl jumped at hearing her name. She let out a squeal straight afterwards when she felt a beetle crawl over her hand. _“What are you doing?”_

“Nothing! What are you worrying about?” Sophie smiled and she could feel the disapproval radiating off him.

 _“You’re at the edge of the woods, putting beetles in a jar,”_ Filip said and Sophie swallowed thickly. She was trying not to think about it and by Filip's tone he was just as distressed as she was. _“Don’t we have brunch with Stefan and Honora?”_

“Oh, is that today? I forgot!”

_“They only have brunches like this on Sunday, Sophie.”_

“Totally forgot.”

_“Put away the beetles, Sophie.”_

"At least hear my plan first!”

There was a long sigh, sounding years older than Sophie who was only seven at the time. Despite Sophie insisting she was older, Filip was always weirdly mature for his age.

_“What is it?”_

“Now, Honora is all icky and gross on the outside, right?” Sophie can imagine disgustingly vividly the disappointed stare Filip would give her. She imagined it being similar to her father's but with all the soft roundness of a boy.

_“I… dislike where this conversation is going.”_

“So I was thinking we put this in her tea and make her all icky and gross on the inside.”

 _“...No.”_ The note of finality made Sophie splutter.

“Come on, Filip!”

_“No! Put 'em back! That’s mean!”_

* * *

_“Sophie.”_

“What?! I was just telling the truth,” Sophie squirmed slightly when a girl glanced at her. She straightened up and shot them a smile. The girl softened slightly and continued on. “Is it a sin, to tell the truth, Filip?”

“She cried, Sophie. You said that in front of everyone, she was probably embarrassed by it!”

Sophie tutted picking up her books and walking down the lane. She hadn’t found a boy to carry her books that afternoon, most of the boys had already either left with another girl or had gone with their friends. Sophie understood that they were obviously intimidated by a girl of her high standing. The boys in her school knew their places were limited, but still, wasn’t it the princess who dismissed her subjects?

“A good princess never lies.”

_“A good princess should also practise more personality defining traits than a perfect princess smile and skincare routines.”_

“And what would you know about being a princess?”

Filip scoffed and Sophie smirked, proud that she got the final word in--

_“You’re so focused on being a princess than being a good person.”_

Sophie frowned. She can never win.

* * *

_“I like her,”_ Filip commented as the shadow of the local witch doctor’s daughter disappeared from their sight.

“You have weird taste,” Sophie commented, picking up the sheet she had laid out. “She ate all of the scones I had..”

_“She just seemed honest, as all. Different from everyone else here.”_

Sophie almost ignored Filip's musing before she paused for a long moment, stopping her movements as well. “Do you think the School Master would put her in the evil school along with me?”

_“What! No--”_

“I mean it’d make sense,” Sophie continued on, eyes lighting up. "How many points would that give me? Managing to be friends with a soon-to-be witch? Mother Teresa couldn't compete with me!"

_"You're the worst!"_

"I'm being smart about this!" was Sophie's rebuttal refusing to back down from her comment. It's usually that phrase that made her recluse but she had a mind of her own now.

Every four years, children who had turned the age of fifteen knew there was a chance of them getting taken away. Taken to a world far away from home where they'd get a chance to be in a storybook. And when children and their parents hid them away, dirtied their best children's cheeks and beg the worst to spend a day at church, Sophie waited enviously.

One child, fair and good.

The other child, queer and evil.

Comparing the two of them now, Sophie was shocked she didn't realise it! Sophie, peach fair skin and hair that fell to her waist the colour of freshly picked wheat. Sophie was shorter than some and was just beginning to develop her curves, every bit of her soft and sweet. Her cheeks had just the right amount of fat that made her points adorable and gave her a dent went she poked at it. Her lips were full like petals and her nose was small and stuck out elegantly.

Agatha was pale and thin, limbs spindly like the graveyard trees. Hair the colour of oil and eyes so dark they matched them. Her hair barely passed her ears and looked sloppily chopped as if the decision was made haphazardly. Though few weeks Agatha's hair would grow out again and she'd cut it again. Every bit of her weirdly sharp and angled except for her body which was completely rectangular. It was weird the way her face was, a jawline weirdly defined like a boy's and eyes lidded with pupils so big it almost made her look like a bug. Her lips were thin and her nose was slightly crooked.

Sophie loved the idea of princes and castles and Agatha preached solitude and glared at children.

Sophie liked the colour pink, Agatha wore black everywhere she went.

Sophie did ballroom dance.

Agatha once dressed as a bride for Halloween.

Sophie listed off these facts to Filip and ended up getting scolded in return. It made sense! 

Filip had no reason for overreacting in such a way. Agatha was just to be one of Sophie's projects. If only they could agree on this thing like they agree on the amazing effects of avocado masks and that Cinderella's prince was the cutest.

But no, of course, something as insignificant as this needed to be blown out of proportion but Sophie was determined. She wouldn't let their shared emotions get the best of her and turn their strictly business relationship.

Yet it was that very same Agatha who was the first to know of Filip.

It was brought up quite haphazardly, beneath twinkling stars that shone the brightest on Grave Hills. The moment was tender and despite Sophie’s complaints about the dirt clinging to her dress and hair, the sight was so nice she risked it. The girls shared a tall bottle of golden cyder from the pub nearby, Nicola’s gift for the two girls' birthday.

It was a weird circumstance, granted this was the first time the girls ever had a birthday together and realised the same day that they shared one. Agatha was given a new black smock and treated to blueberries in her porridge that morning, courtesy of her mother. Sophie was given a brand new dress from her father that was a hideous mint green that she wore for the day. And by the end of the night, it was covered in dirt and stained with cyder.

While the girls were exchanging words with each other, Filip appeared in Sophie’s head. He was humming at first, a dull echo in the back of her head. It was easy to ignore when he was just humming but then Filip felt the need to talk more. Sophie had a feeling this was because of Agatha.

As stated before, for some odd reason, Filip really liked Agatha. Whenever he was in Sophie’s head and Agatha came near he was radiating positive energy that showed on Sophie as well.

The same positive energy plus the slight buzz from the cyder had Sophie weirdly giddy. “Aggie?”

“Mhm?” Agatha hummed tearing her gaze away from the stars to glance at Sophie whose eyes were beginning to glaze.

“I have the voice of my dead twin in my head and he wants to know if you like the blueberry scones or raspberry scones more.”

The silence dragged on for a while, the slight rustle of weeds sounding soft compared to Sophie's heart.

After a beat, Agatha replied, “Blueberries.”

The next morning the Sophie woke up in Agatha’s rickety room with the owner standing at the doorway with two cups of water in hand and questions. Sophie had hoped Agatha would just see it as a joke but she seemed weirdly relentless about this.

Sophie hadn’t expected much from her relationship with Agatha. Really, she was just supposed to be her good deed and that’s it. Filip liking her made it a lot harder to keep things business-friendly. She had things to do! Lists to make, creams to brew and if she keeps getting all friendly with Agatha it could throw everything off. Though… Sophie going out of her way to grace Agatha with her presence at the cost of Sophie’s hobbies would merit a high ranking in princess surely? The School For Good would be begging her to join when they’re ready.

Filip disliked Sophie’s way of thinking but he wasn’t thinking progressively enough. Good deeds were like points in a way. You rack them up over your life and the one with the best deeds gets sent to the School For Good.

The vice versa, one who does bad deeds and is overall a gloomy person, would be sent to the School For Evil.

Sophie, who brilliantly cracked the code, decided to spend her life dedicated to doing good deeds. Giving makeovers to the hags on the street, telling stories to the kids at the library and spending time with Agatha, the friendless witch.

Charity work was easy when she had a goal.

That was all this was, a way to rack up points and get her dream.

That’s why she insists on her weekly picnics with Agatha through Grave Hills, despite her detest for its horrid lighting in the day. 


	2. Maybe It's The Daddy issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I know,” Agatha said, shaking her head. “That’s kinda the point. Boys think I act the way I am cause I don’t have a dad to discipline me. They insist that the reason why I don’t respect ‘em or like ‘em is cause of my dad when that’s just not it.”
> 
> “It isn’t?” Sophie questioned, starting to think the title suited Agatha more than she thought. She must’ve read Sophie’s mind because she gave Sophie a narrowed eye stare, pursing her lips.
> 
> “It isn’t," Agatha said firmly.

“Come with me to Camelot!” The prince exclaims and his friend freezes in place, looking at him with pupils blown wide. His heart strings strum like a gentle hand plucking against a guitar. It’s panicked and rapid, like it’s afraid of being pushed back down and ignored.

“What?” The voice is soft, and the prince takes the other boy’s hand in his and looks at him with earnest eyes. This feeling is familiar, the friend realises and after repressing it for so long it comes out in waves vibrating through his entire body. A body that barely felt like his own, a body that wasn’t made for his thoughts in mind. 

He feels his prince squeeze his hand tight and smile wide, a rare smile. The type that bares his teeth and makes the prince’s cheeks pull upwards.

 _It’s yearning._ He realises. He’s yearned for this.

* * *

It’s during their classes that Sophie gets an earful of the word. It’s not directed at her but she flinched despite it. Agatha scowled and packed her bag a lot faster when those words left her classmate’s lips. _‘Daddy Issues.’_

Sophie wasn’t sure what it meant but the way Agatha’s frown turned poisonous at the mention she’s sure it wasn’t anything good. She found herself packing her bag just as fast, ignoring the call of Radley, the boy who was meant to be carrying her bag for the week and raced after Agatha.

Their classes took place in a park at the centre of Gavaldon adorned with wooden pots filled with plants and a cobblestone path way. The centerpiece was the fountain incaptivating three cloaked figures with long beards, each a different length. It was said to have been a symbol of hope for the villagers but Sophie found it a tad unnerving.

Agatha didn’t get too far and Sophie slowed at her side and shot her a smile which she deflected with a scowl. Most people would flinch at the sight of Agatha’s glare but Sophie having been her friend (prime tormentor she once called her) didn’t mind too much. In fact she was all too used to the sight and if Agatha really wanted to get away she would just speed up. Instead, the thin girl’s brisk walk turned to a slow stroll next to Sophie.

“Why do you care?” Agatha sneered when Sophie asked and she simply pouted and looked down at her hands.

“Just curious,” Sophie said. “Seemed like it hurt you.”

Agatha scoffed. “Like anything they say could hurt me.” That was obviously a lie. Though Agatha was very good at keeping her face neutral (sharp eyes and deep frown) Sophie caught her furiously rubbing at her wet eyes a couple of times after classes.

“Then just tell me already then!”

Agatha tsked and slowed down to dig in her pockets for her keys. They were getting close to graveyard hills, Sophie could see the large iron gate in the distance. Grave Hills really seemed as though it was on another plane of existence.

Unlike the Endless forest that surrounded their town in a lush green spread of dense vegetation, Grave Hills was a vast plot of dying grass and naked trees.

It was completely closed off from the town by a wall other than from the small opening from the forest.

No one really bothered with the forest since most of the time anyone who went in always ended up right back where they started or unluckily enough somewhere else in the town.

It was there where Agatha and her mother, the witch doctor Callis lived. In between gravestones was a dirt path that was barely light enough to be seen in the already brown dirt hills. That led to a little clearing where Agatha’s rickety home was. A one story disaster that looked as though it would tip over at any moment. Sophie had mentioned she thought it looked abandoned to which Agatha replied saying it was at first before her mother made it their home.

Agatha insisted it was safe despite this and Sophie remembered the one time she visited her foot got stuck in a hole when she stepped too hard and gave her friend a withering look.

“The name’s pretty self-explanatory,” Agatha huffed as they made their way there, digging the tip of her boot into the path as they walked.

“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me,” Sophie said. “You don’t really have a father to really have issues with.” Sophie glanced down and frowned. “You’ll dirty your shoes like that.”

Agatha made a show of kicking her toe into the ground, leaving a dent. “Yeah, I know,” Agatha said, shaking her head. “That’s kinda the point. Boys think I act the way I am cause I don’t have a dad to discipline me. They insist that the reason why I don’t respect ‘em or like ‘em is cause of my dad when that’s just not it.”

“It isn’t?” Sophie questioned, starting to think the title suited Agatha more than she thought. She must’ve read Sophie’s mind because she gave Sophie a narrowed eye stare, pursing her lips.

“It isn’t," Agatha said firmly. "Guys are just pigs as all. No, brutes suit them better. Actually they’re both pigs and brutes. Piggish brutes!”

Agatha's face went a tad red from yelling and she frowned, hands reaching up as if she was about to start scratching at her neck. Sophie always thought it was an exaggeration when she said boys gave Agatha rashes but the way the red was seeping to her neck made Sophie think otherwise.

“I mean, it could make sense,” Sophie shrugged. Agatha gave her a stare and Sophie held up her hands defensively. “I mean is it really that hard to believe? I mean think about it psychologically.”

“Oh my god, this again.”

“You didn’t have your dad at a young age so obviously you’d think all men are terrible! It makes sense!”

“You decide to pick up one psyche book and suddenly you’re a psychiatrist.”

“Psychiatrist or not, I think I’m right!” Sophie said proudly but found herself falter at tad when Agatha’s frown deepened. “I mean I am, but it doesn’t matter, really. You’re still you.”

Agatha snorted. “You’re terrible at cheering people up.”

Sophie pouted and folded her arms. “Oh wow, your welcome, Aggie.”

“I already said stuff like that doesn’t bug me.” Agatha and Sophie stopped on top of a hill, a spot overhead Agatha’s house. “So, no need to comfort me. I’m fine.”

“Oh, well, fine,” Sophie huffed. Agatha was scratching at her neck again, idling instead of walking forward. “Is...something?”

Agatha made a frustrated noise between her teeth, turning to glare at Sophie who had no idea what she did to deserve it. She stared back, bottom lip pouting slightly in confusion. Agatha let up, shoulders slumping. It was difficult to see, granted Agatha’s posture was already horrendous but Sophie could see by the way Agatha was looking at her that she was frustrated.

“Do you want to do something?” Agatha said, gaze switching to the ground as she continued to dig her toe into the ground beneath her.

“Oh!” Sophie perked up. “Well why didn’t you say that earlier silly?”

Agatha clicked her tongue and the red that was on her neck began seeping to her cheeks. “I wanted to drop off my stuff first,” she mumbled.

“Well, how about we meet at the lake? I can bring scones and cupcakes!”

“Don’t those take awhile?” Sophie saw Agatha move uneasily.

“I have some left over! We could eat those,” Sophie felt her lip twitch. “If my dad hasn’t eaten them all yet..”

“Okay,” Agatha said, tension draining from her as she straightened up slightly. “I’ll meet you there then.”

“Mhmm!” Sophie hummed, skipping off happy to get away from the barren waste land, her mind swirled happily with thoughts of checkerboard blankets and happy talks with Agatha. Sophie paused, eyebrows furrowed at the thought. She felt as though she needed to justify those thoughts. Why would she enjoy spending time with someone like Agatha? Sophie tsked and her skip slowed into a trot as she got nearer to her house, passing the gates and walking around the fountain again.

She supposed all princesses would be happy to do something good for someone. Yeah, that's it! She decided. It just meant she was getting better and better at being one.

Sophie allowed herself to be happy pushing open the door to her home. She paused for a moment in the doorway, listening for any footsteps.

 _"He's not home,"_ Filip assured her and Sophie walked through, thankful her happy mood wouldn't be dampened by the sight of him. She beelined for the kitchen, stopping at the basket where the bowl of pastries laid untouched. Sophie wasn't a big sweets person, so she took great care in making sure her treats were both healthy and tasty. She told Agatha this once and the girl twisted up her face at the thought but after trying some herself, Sophie was proud to announce that she liked them a lot.

"Where do you go when I'm at school?" Sophie asked absentmindedly, making small talk as she picked up a basket to put the pastries in, catching sight of her nails raising them in the air to check them. It was beginning to chip, she should paint over it but what colour is the question..

 _"Where do I go?"_ Filip repeated, as if he was asking himself the question.

"Yeah?" Sophie confirmed, glancing away from her nails to stare at the spot on the roof instead. "Do you like..have a body or something and just walk around and stuff?"

 _"I don't really go anywhere I really just don't say anything while you're at school,"_ Filip said, sounding confused as he explained. _"And body? I kinda just..exist as I am now. A voice."_

"Just a voice?"

_"Mhmm."_

"So, like, you don't know how you look?"

_"...no."_

"Really?"

_"What's with the repeating?"_

Sophie made her way to her room as a pit stop, she might as well paint their nails while they were there. "Well I mean, I just couldn't not be able to see myself at all. Beauty is very important, you know."

_"It hasn't bothered me before.."_

"Well think about it," Sophie fished out a nail polish bottle examining the colour before deciding on it. White looked nice on her. "We're twins, so you'd probably have my face and hair and stuff but mum always said you had blue eyes! Like dad."

_"Did I?"_

"Uh huh! The type of eyes that only a prince would have. Think of the butterflies I showed when we went out after winter, you but as eyes." Sophie swooned for a moment, too taken by her daydream to notice Filip’s silence. Her mind was full of imagery of true blue eyes to notice the sinking pit in her stomach that was a side effect from Filip, who felt weirdly hollow at the moment.

* * *

Sophie whined, an audible shudder quaking out of her. She squeezed Agatha’s hand on impulse and felt the panic rising in her stomach quell. “Just breathe through your mouth,” Agatha said, voice coming out surprisingly tender, gently tilting Sophie’s head back and leading her by the hand. “My mum’ll know what to do about this.”

“Aggggieee…” Sophie sniffled and choked, feeling more blood spill from her nostrils. “Tell me honestly, does it look bad?”

“You fell down a hill and your nose is bleeding and that’s what you’re worried about?” Agatha 

_“I thought the same.”_

“Oh, hush the both of you!” Sophie huffed, now staring at the empty air above her furiously. “Filip, you tell me then.”

“Don’t ignore me for Filip,” Agatha said. “Plus, I doubt he could give a proper evaluation based on how your face is twisted right now.”

Sophie huffed, taking gulps of breath as she was led up the hill she had just had the misfortune of falling down. Her heart clenched at the thought of her basket still at the end of the hill.

Aesthetically pleasing cupcake frosting smeared against the ground, scones floating on the nearby lake, already fat geese gobbling it all up. Lucky bastards, she thought, frowning, being given a feast like that. They wouldn’t be able to properly appreciate the way she lovingly crafted each one because they were too busy choking on the wrappers.

She could feel dirt streaks against her face that Agatha had wiped off when she first fell but it was still there. Her fingers twitched. She needed a mirror.

Bearing with the combined pain of her nose and mystery of not knowing what she looked like, Sophie screwed her eyes shut. The most she got from Agatha were soft warnings of when the terrain changed and when they were going up her steps. Filip, as usual when something other than Sophie ‘misbehaving’ or something didn’t strike him as interesting, stayed quiet, leaving Sophie to her own anxious thoughts.

What happens when she opens her eyes and she ends up disfigured? Her nose all bent and out of shape? Acne brandishing her cheeks? The thought made her shudder even more and Agatha patted her hand gently.

They went up a few steps, likely into Agatha’s porch. There was that annoying door creak she recognised, now it’s cold all of a sudden, definitely inside Agatha’s house. "If I fall through the floor again I'll scream," she warned.

"That happened one time and you never let that go," Agatha made a frustrated noise through her teeth. "Oh, ma, help out, will ya?"

Sophie heard her witchish mother howl in surprise and felt another pair of hands on her guide her further inside. It didn’t break too badly and the most her mother had to do was reset it. After some reassurances and stinky smell gauze Sophie was laying in Agatha’s bed waiting for the swelling to stop.

“Well that was almost nice,” Agatha said, stepping inside the room taking a seat by Sophie’s feet. “How you feeling?”

“Terrible,” Sophie sulked. “I mean not only is my nose ruined but all those treats I baked are going to waste!”

“You baked?” Agatha made a face. “I mean, I know you can make scones but cupcakes?”

Sophie toyed with the frill of her skirt. “Okay, maybe I bought them, but I decorated them myself!”

“The frosting?” Agatha rose a brow and Sophie opened her mouth to speak only to reclude slightly at Agatha’s knowing gaze.

“I put the lil’ wrappers on ‘em,” Sophie murmured.

“As I thought.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t bake!”

“I know this, it’s just you never bake anything with sugar, said it makes you blow up fat like a balloon.”

“It does! I know it does! Not to mention it causes acne, makes your face red like a tomato.”

“And yet,” Agatha brandished the fallen basket coated in chunks of crumbling cake and smeared with frosting.

Sophie bowed her head low, fluctuating between a frown and going neutral. Would she rather have wrinkles or the relief of not forcing her face? 

“Daddy mentioned how Belle baked and cooked her father full meals,” Sophie began, having to force herself not to furrow her brows. It would cause hideous lines in her forehead. She couldn’t have any of that. “Like meat and potatoes, cakes and sweets. Made sense granted her father was fat as well not to mention she gives out sandwiches to the homeless, making them all fat. I bet she thinks it’s gonna give her more good points but really, to me, the most villainous thing you can do, is encourage gluttony.”

“Sophie.”

“Like, I can excuse murder and cursing but pushing a life of being hideous with a face full of acne.”

_“You excuse murder?”_

“Sophie, back on track,” Agatha snapped her fingers in front of Sophie’s face. “Come on.”

Sophie groaned. “Why are we talking about this? It doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t know! You seemed distressed!” Agatha scoffed and folded her arms, scowling. “I mean you make me talk about things when they bug me and they usually make me feel better."

"So?"

"I was trying to make you feel better!"

"Well you're bad at it!"

"Fine then let's not talk then!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

The argument lost its meaning when both girls turned away, noses turned up while still being less than an arms length away.

“.....”

“....”

_“Sophie?”_

“Agh! Okay, okay!” Sophie twisted around towards Agatha. “I hate the fact that stupid Belle with her fairytale raven hair and button nose that somehow looks cuter than mine that frames her gorgeous eyes may be better than me. I mean, her eyes are violet Aggie! Violet! That-That, that must be worth extra good points.”

“Sophie,” Agatha sighed, not bothering to ask her about how faces equaled good points or even what good points were.

“And just cause I can’t cook and she can, I-I mean when I’m a princess in a castle I won’t need to know how to cook the most I’d want is like the ability to continue making my creams since-since my skin is really sensitive to certain oils and--”

“Sophie!” Agatha grasped hold of her friend’s hand frustration painting her features. Sophie pouted, finally silencing. “I honest to god, could care less about you and your stupid school of fairytales that probably don’t exist.”

“Hey!”

“But,” Agatha enunciated loudly. “They would stupid not to let you into their dumb school of fairytales.” Sophie’s pout retracted, her face softening. “You’re literally a perfect princess. You are literally a princess slapped out of the page in Gavaldon and everyone knows it. You’re…. Unusual determination to get into this school would probably land you in there in a heartbeat.”

“Aggie…”

“Even if it doesn’t exist.” Agatha ended and let go of her friends hand turning away. Sophie lingered for a moment before she scowled.

“You didn’t even say much about what I look like!”

“Wh-- I said you look like a princess out of the page!”

“Not enough, what about my petal red lips? My-My golden stranded hair.”

“It’s like a wintery blonde honestly--”

“Hush, I’m making creams for that. What about my perfect button nose--”

_“Well…”_

“Filip not now.”

_“It’s not very button-like right now as all!”_

“Huh?”

Sophie looked back at Agatha who was deadpanned, a usual expression when Sophie tended to the voice in her head. “Agatha, give me a mirror.”

The girl froze.

“Agatha, what’s wrong with my nose.” The panic rising in her throat did not make Agatha budge any further and Sophie, taking matters into her own hands rose up and sauntered over to the obnoxious hanging mirror in Agatha’s hallway and took a peek.

Her nose, her perfect button nose after she had crashed into the ground had a bump on it.

Sophie wailed.

Clawed at her hair, (not too hard to rip strands but enough for the melodrama) felt her mascara streak down her cheeks.

“Nice going, Filip, I was gonna let her down gently,” Agatha grumbled as she set a hand on Sophie’s back, gently tracing circles to soothe her.

“Am I still pretty Agatha?” Sophie sniffed.

“Yes, Sophie,” And despite sounding exasperated, Sophie knew she was being sincere and took her word for it.

* * *

"I swear you're the most unhelpful," Sophie found herself complaining beneath her breath. Her nose had stopped throbbing so Callis had let her on her way. "You only ever come around when it's to scold me."

 _"Well, someone needs to,"_ Filip argued. Sophie's way home is mostly empty. It was sundown, students would have already been in their homes and if anyone even heard Sophie mumbling beneath her breath they'd be too tired from work to care. _"It worries me that I have to prod at you just to talk to Agatha."_

"You didn't need to do that," Sophie pointed her nose in a direction, glaring at the daisies growing at the side of the part.

 _"You and Agatha_ _probably wouldn't have made up if I didn't,"_ Despite not having a physical form, the very tone of Filip's voice gave off the impression that he would roll his eyes when saying this.

Sophie, not wanting to start an argument just hummed beneath her breath as she finally made her way to her home. She saw four silhouettes in the house across the lane so she had a feeling she would be home alone.

She took place inside her room, sitting down at her vanity. She pouted, turning to the side slightly as she paused a finger over her now bumped nose. How unfortunate...

_"You know, daddy issues apply to you as well."_

Sophie's head whipped to an empty spot next to her.

"Our father's alive!"

 _“Daddy Issues doesn’t only go for people who have dead or absent fathers!”_ Filip groaned. _“You both have fathers whose behaviour affected the way you both see men and just the world in general.”_

Sophie massaged her temples and eyed one of her face masks. She could use one right now but she felt like Filip would spoil it.

“Example?” Sophie dared, deciding to humour him.

 _“Agatha believes men are brutes and unreliable because she had a dad who she never met making her think she’s completely undesirable. Not to mention this village kinda villainises here to the point of where she feels as though isolation is all she can do."_ Sophie's head span from the explanation, burrowing her brows as she tried to keep up.

"Wuh-well how does that apply to me then? I'm incredibly social and everyone loves me!" Sophie said proudly. "I obviously don't have daddy issues."

 _"You treat men like something to benefit you rather than someone to love,"_ Filop began and Sophie already didn't like where it was going and wished she had opted for the mask instead of this. _"You have a strict criteria for how a man or prince should be because you're convinced that anything less is garbage because of how our dad is."_

Silence.

"How do you know all this?!"

_"Maybe if you spent more time listening to passersby instead of staring in a mirror you would actually hear would other people say."_

"First of all, stalker. And second of all, princesses don't need to be therapists so I won't bother."

Sophie went back to admiring herself. Unable to fully ignore her new bump she focused on for a long while through narrowed eyes, angling in every direction before pausing when a thought came to mind.

"Filip, do you have mummy issues then?"

_"What?"_

"Well our mother died, and you haven't talked about having daddy issues so do you have mummy issues. Is your incredible nosiness a product of never meeting our mother? Do you attempt to mend relationships I have as a way of vicariously living through me? A life you long for but can never have."

There was a moment of silence and an offended splutter.

_"That's the dumbest thing you've ever said."_

"What?! Hey, that's so unfair!"

_"I can see why Agatha argues with you so much now, gods. Go whine about the bump on your nose."_

"Hush! It-It, uh," Sophie's mind buzzed for a moment from Filip's surprise streak of cruelty, a rare and very unwelcome character her twin had.

"It gives me character!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends, I'm back and I had a whole epiphany about the characters and their parental issues, hence the extra tags.
> 
> One day I'll talk about why Tagatha is based on daddy issues and poor decisions but today is not that day and I don't have enough followers on Tumblr to put that much effort into it.
> 
> I'll be honest, the next chapter will be a lot longer than most of them since it will just be a thumb through of the first book since things really start kicking off. Though, I can't skip the first book since there are things in there that if I don't mention now wouldn't make sense. I hope you enjoyed this chapter though!


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